


Rewards

by magickmoons



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Mental Health Issues, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Wolfram & Hart, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickmoons/pseuds/magickmoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several years after Buffy's death, Angel runs into her doppelganger. Is it just a coincidence or are there greater forces at work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Après-Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins one year after the events of The Gift and There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb. Buffy died and was not resurrected. Angel Investigations has continued in Los Angeles. No romance developed between Angel and Cordy, although their friendship did grow and deepen.
> 
> Caution: There are references to schizophrenia in this story. I am using the general public perception of its symptoms for purposes of this story. I do not have any specialized knowledge of the disease and do not intend any offense to anyone whose lives have been touched by it.

Angel looked around the ruins of what had once been a school. He shook his head. What was it about centers of mystical energy that everyone wanted to build schools on top of them? Limping through the debris and demon bodies that littered the floor, he stopped to help Wesley up.

"You okay?" he asked. Wesley had a pretty bad gash across his forehead and his right arm hung by his side.

Wesley winced, but not nodded. "I'll survive." He smiled. "And so will the world, again. Thanks to you."

From the other side of the room, Gunn coughed as a shower of dust descended from the desk he was trying to move out of his way. "You guys all right?" he shouted.

"We're good. It's finished," Angel replied.

 _We survived_ , he thought, trying to ignore the slight disappointment he felt deep in his heart. He had been prepared to die, part of him had even wished he would. Angel would never take his own life, but he wouldn't run from death either. It was only a year ago that he had walked into the lobby of The Hyperion to find Willow waiting for him with the worst news he could ever imagine in his nearly 300 years. The year since Buffy's death had not been easy on him. The constant guilt that he should have been there, that he could have protected her, irrational as it was, had prompted him to take more than his share of stupid risks.

Gunn made it over his friends and looked around. "We made it, but this place is trashed," he commented. "We'd better vacate before some enterprising young public safety official decides to see what all the ruckus was about."

The others agreed and the started toward the exit. Suddenly, Angel felt a pain in his chest. He staggered and grunted in pain. Wesley and Gunn looked at him, concerned. "Angel," Wesley said his name, questioningly.

Angel tried to talk, but couldn't force sound out. The room started spinning around him as the pain increased to nearly unbearable levels. As his friends watched, his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

The pain stopped as suddenly as it started. Angel found himself somewhere bright, but hazy. He tried to look around but could not see very far in any direction. He was standing, but he wasn't sure on what.

"Hey," he shouted, his voice muted by whatever he was surrounded by.

After a moment, there was a shimmering around him and two beings appeared as if there were formed out of the air. As they coalesced, Angel noticed that they bore a striking resemblance to the Oracles.

"Champion," the female being addressed him. "You have questions."

"Where am I? What's happened to me?"

"We have brought you to the in-between place. You have earned your reward."

"You have earned your reward."

 _Not dead then_ , Angel thought. "I don't want any reward." Fury began to build in him. Once again, the Powers that Be were playing games with their pawns.

The male stepped forward, as disdainful as ever. "Your ingratitude is noted. As is your casual regard for your own life and the lives of your friends."

"My friends? What do you know about my friends?"

"More than you can imagine, lower being. Yes, you go into battle, looking for death. What would happen to the friends who depend on you in those battles if you were to find it?"

A twinge of guilt hit Angel. He knew that there was no way Wesley or Gunn would have survived the battle they had just endured if he had not been there.

"Ah, he sees," the female said with a slight smile. "He is learning." She tilted her head as if listening, the male posed in a similar position.

"Very well. While it was initially fated that you would receive your Shanshu today, it now appears that you are not ready."

Angel scoffed, not surprised that the Powers were changing the deal.

"You think the Powers are unfair?" said the male.

"Devious?" supplied the female.

"When I was human, I asked you to take back that day in order to save Buffy. You told me she would die if I stayed human. She died anyway! That time we could have had together, I gave it all up, for nothing." Tears glistened in his eyes as he thought of the fact that he would never touch her again, never hear her laughter, or see her smile.

"We did not promise that she would live if we swallowed that day, only that she would die if we didn't," shared the female. "She was the Slayer, with all the attendant risks and dangers. She died a noble death, protecting those she loved, and you should not denigrate it."

"But," Angel protested. "But, I... I need her."

"No," said the male, brusquely. "You do not. And I tire of this." He looked to his sister, who nodded.

She said, "You will not be made human today. But in preparation for coming events, you will be granted a reprieve from some of your shortcomings. Daylight will no longer be anathema to you."

The male added grudgingly, "And your curse is lifted. Your soul is bound."

Angel chuckled wryly. As if he needed the curse lifted. With the knowledge that Buffy was dead, there was no chance that he would ever again know perfect happiness.

The scene once again became hazy then dark. He opened his eyes to see Wesley and Gunn staring anxiously down at him. His anger with the Powers still fresh in his heart, he also realized the truth of their words. His friends were relying on him and he could not let them down.

He held out his hands for them to help him up. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to stop seeking out needless danger, to continue the good fight in Buffy's memory. Looking at them, he said, "Come on, let's get back to the hotel."


	2. Relics

_ Five Years Later _

As they approached the client's office on the UCLA campus, Angel began to feel a worrying feeling in his stomach. Something was wrong or out of place. He turned to Wesley with a puzzled look on his face.

"What's this case about again?" he asked.

"The Archaeology department is working on a dig about an hour from here in the desert. They unearthed an unusual artifact and would like our help in identifying it."

"That seems a little mundane for us, doesn't it?" Angel asked.

"Well," Wesley began. "The woman I spoke with seemed quite insistent that it was _more_ than a mere artifact. She indicated that her research had led her to some obscure references regarding a cult who believed in the supernatural. At that point her references dried up. She is hopeful that with our more… esoteric library, we may be able to help her identify the piece."

They entered the office. For a second, Angel felt something like a jolt of electricity run through him, but it quickly went away. He followed Wesley to the reception desk.

"Excuse us, we're looking for a Miss Liz Snow," Wesley told the student at the desk.

She pointed to a group across the room. "She's right over there. The blonde. She just got through with her class."

They looked where she had directed them. A group of students were clustered around a female standing with her back to them. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail and she was dressed in cargo pants, a lightweight cotton shirt and boots. Angel and Wesley started across the room as she finished her conversation with the students and turned around.

As stunned as Wesley was, he could still swear that he could actually feel Angel turn to stone momentarily. The young woman walking toward them had Buffy Summers' face, her gait, her smile. And when she spoke, she had her voice.

"Hi! You must be the guys from Angel Investigations. I'm Liz Snow. I'm so glad you could get out here on such short notice." She extended her hand.

Angel was standing as if in a fog, but Wesley shook off his stupor and, shaking her hand, stammered, "Uh… yes, we are… I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and this is my associate, Angel." As he shook her very warm, very alive hand, he forcibly reminded himself that while this young woman was alive, Buffy Summers was dead and buried and had been for many years.

Liz smiled warmly at Wesley. "It's great to meet you, Mr. … I'm sorry. I'm never sure what to do with hyphenated names."

"Wesley will be fine."

She nodded. "Good to meet you Wesley. And you, Angel." She turned and took his hand, which he had finally recovered enough to offer. As she did, she felt a frisson of something electric pass through her. He looked so familiar to her. She was sure she had never actually met him, which meant… She didn't like what it might mean.

As she pushed that unwelcome world out of her mind, she made a mental note of how often it had been creeping up on her lately. She pulled her hand away as quickly as politeness allowed, noticing the brief look of disappointment on Angel's face and trying to ignore the way it tugged at her heart.

Wrenching her thoughts back to the task at hand, she said, "If you all don't mind, perhaps we should get going. It's about an hour out to the dig site. I can fill you in on everything on the way." With that, she grabbed a rucksack sitting by the wall and strode purposefully out the door they had just entered without glancing back to see if they followed.

Exchanging a confused and worried look, Wesley and Angel followed her out into the bright sunlight.

Once they got on the road, Wesley broke a silence which was verging on the uncomfortable what with Angel, who was riding shotgun, sneaking furtive looks at the young doctoral candidate who was studiously avoiding looking in his direction. "So, Ms. Snow, may I ask exactly why you chose our agency for help with your project?"

"Please call me Liz. And truthfully, you were just about the only name that came up when I asked around. The only other person I heard about moved back to England some years ago. You guys are pretty much the predominant experts on this continent for unusual objects." She shivered slightly, remembering the chilly, electric feeling she got every time she was near the carved stone. "And this one seems pretty damn unusual to me. Although I suppose I should warn you, I'm the only one taking a specific interest. Everyone else seems to think it's pretty much run-of-the-mill." She shrugged, glancing at Wesley in the rear-view mirror.

As she moved her eyes back to the road ahead, she noticed that Angel was watching her again. Liz was a beautiful girl, and attracted her fair share of attention, but there was something in his eyes that seemed… different from the average admirer. He seemed almost awed when he looked at her. It was something she could easily get used to, she thought. Except for that feeling of familiarity, she would have been anxious to pursue this man. Images flashed through her mind: sitting on a bed next to him in a small dark room, both soaked with the rain; his face lit by firelight as he read quietly. Stopping the unbidden mental jaunt to that fantasy land, she was glad when Wesley continued.

"So what about it makes you think there's something…" he searched for a word, not wanting to scare her off by suggesting the mystical if she was not already aware of the possibility.

"Supernatural?" Liz suggested.

"Okay, supernatural, about it?" Wesley finished.

"Well, all right." She took a deep breath, praying that they weren't going to think she was crazy. "There are certainly plenty of ruins, settlements, and other archaeological evidence left by the Spanish explorers and settlers and the Amerindian tribes that existed around this area. But this site doesn't have any of the key markers we'd look for in those types of digs. If anything, I'd say the writings and the artifacts look African in nature, which certainly doesn't fit with what we know of the history of this area.

"But, more importantly, there's the object itself. There are symbols on it that I've found in some other writings. As I explained on the phone, most of my resources deal mostly with scientific fact. But I dug into some of the personal accounts of explorers and archaeologists that have worked in this area over the centuries and some of them contain references, some more direct than others, to works of… the occult, I guess I should say."

Angel nodded and making appropriate sounding noises of agreement or understanding as this conversation went on. But he found that he had no idea of what they were talking about. His mind, his senses, everything was inundated with Buffy. Somewhere, the rational part of his brain kept shouting that this couldn't be Buffy, but that part was being pretty well stifled by everything else.

No wonder he hadn't recognized the sensation he felt earlier on the way into her office. He hadn't felt the buzz signaling Buffy was near for years. And since she was dead, he really hadn't expected to be feeling it ever again. But looking back, that's what it was… almost.

Liz chatted on about some of the sources she had examined in her search. Wesley was growing alarmingly aware of the number of volumes she was mentioning that were considered directly related to Slayer lore. If this artifact was related to the Slayer line, and it had been discovered by this girl who happened to look exactly like the greatest Slayer who had ever lived, there were forces at work here that deeply disturbed him.

When they reached the site, Liz parked, tucking her keys up on the sun visor. She had been getting more and more pensive as the neared the location and was now practically silent as they walked toward the entryway dug into the small bluff in the middle of nowhere. As they passed into the antechamber, Angel and Wesley were aware of a shift in the surrounding environment. There was no doubt in either of their minds that this area was powerful with magicks.

The antechamber had one exit uncovered, leading into a dark, narrow hallway. Coming toward them from the hallway was an older man, dressed similarly to Liz. He smiled warmly when he saw her.

"Liz, how wonderful to see you," he fawned over her, taking her hand in both of his, clasping it warmly.

"Dr. Moore! I didn't know you were on-site today," she said, appearing slightly uncomfortable, guiltily glancing at Angel and Wesley.

"Well, I heard you were coming in today and thought it would be nice to touch base with you." He glanced pointedly at Angel and Wesley. "And who are your friends?"

Liz cleared her throat. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Angel, may I present Dr. Philip Moore, the head of our archaeology department. Dr. Moore, these gentlemen are from Angel Investigations. I've asked them to help me in identifying the object in the inner chamber here."

Dr. Moore's expression became disapproving. "Now, Liz, we've discussed this. There is no need for further investigation. The client will handle that end of things. In fact, they have indicated that they want the stone as soon as possible."

"I know that there's no _need_ , Professor." Her tone implied that they had had this discussion several times before. "But think of what we could learn. There's something different here, new…"

"Liz, you are creating mysteries where none exist. If you attempt to go public with these… these theories, you know that you will be entirely discredited. Add to that, someone will dig up your past and make that connection." Her face tensed and he glanced at Wesley and Angel and hesitated. "Liz, I'm only worried about your career. You've worked so hard."

"I'm not going public willy-nilly… or even at all necessarily. I've just asked them in for a consultation. I want to find out what the factual basis is for what we're seeing."

Frustrated, Liz walked on past the professor, gesturing for Wesley and Angel to follow. She didn't understand why he was so set against her following up on this. And to bring up her past! That was beyond the pale. This man had been her mentor for years, but over the last few months he had been behaving more and more erratically.

Wesley and Angel started after her, but were stopped when the professor grabbed Wesley's arm.

"I am familiar with your… organization. It truly is in Liz's best interests for you to turn around now, stop indulging her in her little fantastic notions. Please… leave now." He spoke in a voice low enough not to attract Liz's attention.

Wesley heard the vague threat behind the professor's concern, but detected something else as well, something verging on panic. "I'm sorry, Dr. Moore. Ms. Snow is the one who engaged our services. She is the one to whom we report and she is the only one who can terminate our services."

They headed down the hall. Suddenly, Angel felt a pull toward the room into which Liz had disappeared, followed by an acute sense of alarm. He broke into a run, followed by Wesley.

Angel and Wesley entered the chamber and saw Liz standing almost trance-like, reaching toward the object on the dais in the center of the room. Angel shouted, "No, Buffy!"

She turned her head and said, "Angel?" just as her fingertips lowered and brushed the stone. Her body went rigid for a moment before she collapsed to the floor. Then seizures overtook her body.

They ran to her side, and tried to stabilize her before she threw herself against the stone pillar. Wesley shouted, "Help here!"

Others came rushing in as Angel picked Liz's convulsing body up from the floor. He began carrying her out through the tunnel.

Dr. Moore ran alongside as they emerged into the daylight. He stopped Angel, who was heading for Liz's Jeep. "I'll take her from here, young man," he said, his tone brooking no argument, even as two students were lifting her body from Angel's arms. "Thank you for your help, but your services will no longer be needed on this project." Angel still held on to Liz's hand. The professor gently but firmly disentangled their hands. "We will see that she gets the proper care."

The two students deposited her body in the back seat of a sedan parked nearby. The professor walked to the driver's seat, got in and drove away, leaving Angel staring blankly at a cloud of dust, wondering what had just happened.

Wesley put his hand on Angel's shoulder. "I'm going back in to take a closer look at that object." He looked at the lost expression on his friend's face. "We will find out what is going on here." Angel barely acknowledged Wesley's presence. Wesley thought, 'We never should have come out here. We should have turned back the instant we saw her. This is too much for him…'

Angel nodded, vaguely processing Wesley walking away. What had just happened here? he was wondering; why had he let them just take her away from him? Angel felt as if his heart had shattered into a million pieces. His breath caught in his throat; his chest felt as if a weight had settled on it. 'So close, Buffy. So close.'

Wesley was stopped before he entered the antechamber. A young woman blocked the doorway. "I'm sorry sir. Dr. Moore said you were not to let back in."

"Miss, I need to examine that object. I promise I will not disturb anything."

"I'm sorry. Even if I could let you in, it wouldn't do any good. The professor took the stone with him when he left."


	3. Delusions of Sunnydale

Angel and Wesley were already formulating plans of attack by the time they returned to Liz's Jeep and began the return trip. While Wesley was mentally reviewing Slayer history that he had learned from his time with the Watchers' Council, Angel got on the phone to the gang at the Hyperion. Wesley half-listened to Angel's conversation.

"Cordy, it's me. I need you guys to look up some information. Things have gone very strangely out here. I need you guys to find Liz Snow… yes Liz Snow, the client…. No, we didn't get paid up front. Cordelia, can you focus for a minute please! Start with hospitals between here and LA. I also need someone to find any available background on her, and on this project she's working on. They mentioned something about clients – see if you can find out who's funding it as well. Wes and I are on our way back to the hotel now. See if you guys can't have something for us by the time we get back."

He hung and looked over at Wesley. "Wes, I'm not crazy am I? That was… was that Buffy?" That crushing weight on his chest just wouldn't go away.

Wesley slowly nodded. "It certainly appeared to be. I mean, it's not impossible that there would be another young woman with similar physical characteristics, but given the circumstances of our meeting, the… I would think that we certainly need to keep our minds open to the possibility that somehow that she _is_ Buffy."

The car was very quiet for the remainder of the trip back to the hotel.

When they returned to the hotel, Fred gave them a status update, which did not improve Angel's mood.

"We haven't found a whole lot of information yet which in itself tells us that this is more than just your average archaeological dig. I mean, most of the files on this thing are hidden behind passwords and multi-level encryption, not the kind of security you'd find for most of these types of things. Plus the 'client' is just a dummy corporation. We're trying, but I'm having trouble tracing it back to any type of real entity. It might help if we knew a bit more about what we were looking for."

While Angel sat impatiently brooding, Wesley filled the others in on the events of that morning. Everyone pretty much shared the same look of stunned confusion that Wesley felt had permanently etched itself onto his face. When he was through, they returned to their tasks with a renewed vigor.

Wesley noted, "I'd like to try to research the object in question itself, but I only got a brief glimpse."

Gunn interjected, "Maybe Angel can do that photographic memory thing. Do you think you could draw it, man?"

Angel reflected, seeming more and more agitated as the minutes passed. Finally he said, "All I can see is her hand, reaching out to touch it. I couldn't stop her. I was too late." He abruptly stood up and headed back into the office. Cordelia followed him.

The year after Buffy's death had been harrowing to live through. Angel had completely lost his will to live and Cordelia had lived with the constant fear that each battle would be his last. The look on his face now was reminiscent of those first days when the pain had overwhelmed him. Not for the first time, she mentally cursed the Powers That Be for their utter insensitivity.

"Angel, I can't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling right now." She waited to see if he was going to respond. He didn't.

"Despite appearances to the contrary, we are good at this. We will find her and we will find out what is happening."

"I found her! I found her!" Fred exclaimed excitedly.

Angel ran back to the lobby. "Where? How?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Okay, that was faster than I thought," she muttered as she followed Angel back where the others were gathered around Fred at the computer..

"Well you see, I was calling about emergency admissions and getting nowhere. But it turns out that she didn't go through the ER at all. She was admitted directly. She's at St. Rita's Hospital. But it looks like it's just a temporary admission. Oh…" she trailed off.

"Oh? What 'Oh'?" Angel asked, looking over her shoulder at a complex table of data.

"She's been given a room at the hospital until a bed opens up at Wildwood, the private psychiatric facility just west of the city."

"Why a psychiatric facility?" Wesley questioned.

Fred shook her head. "I don't see that information here. I think you'll have to go look at her chart in person."

It was decided that Wesley and Cordelia would accompany Angel to investigate at the hospital. Before they left, Wesley asked Gunn to visit Liz's apartment and see if she had any information on the dig there, specifically information on the stone in question.

* * *

They arrived at the hospital within half an hour and went straight to the room number Fred had obtained, bypassing the information desk. They entered the room. Liz was lying in bed, still unconscious. In a chair at the side of the bed sat an older woman, her face drawn. She looked up as she heard them.

"Are you friends of Liz's? I'm Laura Snow, her mother."

Angel was taken aback. Somehow, he had not imagined anyone being there. "Uh, yes, well, that is to say we were working with her. We were there this morning when she collapsed. This is Wesley and Cordelia," he said indicating the other two. He stuck out his hand in greeting. "And I'm Angel."

Mrs. Snow started as she heard his name and looked closely at him as she shook his hand. "How strange. Is that your given name?"

"Well, it's kind of a nickname, but it's what I go by. Is there a problem?"

"No, no," Mrs. Snow said tiredly. "It's just that there was someone once, also named Angel, who was very important to my daughter." She glanced back down at Liz, shaking her head. "I can't believe this has started again." Tears began forming in her eyes.

Cordy stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Mrs. Snow, you look like you could use a break. I saw a cafeteria as we were coming in. Would you like to go and get a cup of tea with me?"

"But what if… what if she wakes up and I'm not here?"

"Angel and Wesley can stay here. If she wakes up, one of them will come get us immediately."

"Of course," Wesley agreed.

Mrs. Snow moved to Liz's bedside and gently kissed her forehead. "I'll be back soon, sweetie," she murmured.

As soon as they had left the room, Wesley grabbed the chart off the end of Liz's bed. Angel stood by the bed looking down at the girl. She looked just like Buffy. Angel had never though he would see that beautiful face again. Wesley gave a slight cough to try to get his attention.

"Talk to me, Wes," Angel replied tersely, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Angel," Wesley's voice was heavy. Angel looked at him. "She has been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I don't have the whole history here, but it appears to date back to her teen years. There is an indication that she seemed to have been spontaneously cured about six years ago."

"Six years?" repeated Angel. "That's when Buffy died." Even now, uttering those words caused immeasurable pain.

"Yes, I do find it an odd coincidence. I wish I had the full history." He continued studying the chart, looking at prognosis and treatment, and then said incredulously, "This can't be right!"

"What?" Angel said sharply.

"Well, these dosages. They've got her on anti-psychotics, which seem to be reflective of her historical condition more than the symptoms we saw this morning. But that aside, these dosage levels would be lethal to most people." He looked contemplative. "However, levels like these might be used to subdue someone of preternatural strength, metabolism… someone like…"

"… a Slayer," Angel finished.

Wesley continued reading the chart. He suddenly put it down and checked out the door. He looked back at Angel and said urgently, "We've got to get her out of here. Now."

"What? Why? What's going on?"

"Just help me get her out of here. I don't think they mean for her to wake up."

Wesley ran down the hall to a supply closet and returned with a wheelchair. As Angel removed Liz from the bed and began to position her in the chair, Wesley tersely commented, "They have her scheduled for electroshock therapy; at levels that _will_ kill her, possibly even if she is the Slayer."

Angel's face hardened. He nodded abruptly. "We're ready. What about Cordy?"

They started moving the wheelchair down the hall. Wesley grabbed his cell phone and dialed. "Gunn, I need you to call Cordy. Tell her not to go back to Liz's room with Mrs. Snow. She needs to leave as soon as possible."

* * *

In the cafeteria, Cordelia and Mrs. Snow were sitting with mugs of hot tea. Cordelia felt for the poor woman, she looked so tired and so worried.

"So," Cordy began, you said that you couldn't believe this was happening _again_? What's going on? What's wrong with Bu... Liz?"

The older woman sighed. "Of course she wouldn't have told you. She was so happy to be able to put it all in the past. And of course so many people hear schizophrenia and just get scared."

"Of course," Cordy agreed. "When did it start?"

"Oh, she was about 15 when it first happened. But after a few weeks, the delusions stopped and we thought it was an isolated incident. About half a year later, it all began again and we, well we just lost her for years."

"What were her delusions about?" Cordelia asked, already having her suspicions.

"Vampires and demons. She thought she was some sort of superhero that was destined to save humanity. There was even someone in her delusional world named Angel. That's why I was so startled to hear that name, especially given what's happened. Her delusions were so complete. She had friends, Willow and Xander, and enemies. She even thought she lived somewhere else, someplace called Sunnydale. That was all she ever shared with us. She was catatonic most of the time."

Cordelia swallowed. This was very very creepy.

Mrs. Snow continued, so grateful to be letting all this out that she didn't notice Cordelia's discomfort. "And then, as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone."

"When was that?" Cordelia asked slowly.

"Spring, six years ago. She would never tell us what happened at the end, but she came back to us." Mrs. Snow was smiling and crying at the same time. "She worked so hard to put it all behind her. She got her GED in no time at all, excelled at college. I thought it was over. And now, the doctor says he doesn't expect her to ever wake up."

Cordelia's phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, she saw Gunn's number. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this. It's my work.

"Yeah, Gunn?"

"Listen, Cordy, I don't know what's going on over there, but Wesley says you've got to get out of there. And whatever you do, don't go back to Liz's room. Just get back to the office ASAP."

"Oh, okay. I understand. I'll be there right away."

She hung up and turned to Mrs. Snow. "I'm so sorry, but I really have to run. Please give Liz my best when she wakes up." With that, Cordy hurried out of the cafeteria and out to the parking lot only to realize that Angel and Wesley must have taken the car already. "Great," she grumbled.

* * *

Gunn closed his cell phone and looked around Liz Snow's apartment. She didn't have a desk or a computer here. Given the urgency of Wesley's phone call, he wasn't sure that he wanted to stick around too much longer. Moving into the bedroom, he did a quick check through her closet and night table. _Pay dirt!_ In a drawer in the night table was a thick file folder surrounded by a rubber band. He pulled off the band and took a quick glance through the contents. On top was a printout from the Angel Investigations website, and the rest of the papers seemed to be summaries and drawings from the dig. He quickly bundled it back up and exited the apartment.

* * *

When Cordelia returned to the hotel, she found the lobby and office empty. Hearing faint voices from upstairs, she followed the sound until she found everyone in one of the unused guest rooms. As she walked up, she could hear Wesley explaining that apparently Liz had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and violent delusions.

She entered the room. "And I can tell you what those delusions were about." Turning to Angel, she added, "By the way, thanks for ditching me! What was so important that," she stopped as she saw Liz laying unconscious in the bed at the far end of the room. "Oh boy."

"We had to get her out of there, Cordy. We think someone may be trying to kill her."

"And again, I say Oh Boy."

Wesley interrupted. "Cordelia, you were saying you know something about the delusions."

"Yes. Well, her mother was pretty forthcoming. I think you'll find the story pretty familiar. When she was about 15, she started having "delusions" that she was some type of superhero destined to save the world from vampires, along with her friends Willow and Xander. This all continued until six years ago, when she abruptly came back to reality."

"I don't understand. Are you saying that she shared Buffy's experiences?" Fred asked.

Cordy shrugged. "I don't know what I'm saying. I've never heard of anything like this. But look at her. I mean, that's Buffy. And she apparently knows about Slayers and vampires and everything else."

They stood around the bed looking at her, each wondering what was happening. After a moment, Fred ventured, "This is a little morbid, just watching her. Don't you think?"

Everyone except Angel looked away, nodding. Wesley said, "Of course, you're right. We aren't doing any good just staring at her. We should get back to the research."

Gunn added, "Yeah, I found some stuff in her apartment. I'm pretty sure there's a sketch of the stone in there."

"Great, we can research that as well as any history of Slayer doppelgangers. Fred, you can continue trying to track down who is funding this project."

Angel was vaguely aware of the conversation going on around him. He had been watching her since they had returned from the hospital. All he wanted to do was sit by her bedside and hold her hand, but it somehow didn't seem appropriate. He hadn't touched her since he had put her on the bed. His eyes covered every inch of her face, looking for anything that was different, that would say she wasn't Buffy, but finding nothing.

He remembered the last time he had seen Buffy before her death. It was after her mother's funeral. She had looked drawn and anxious, but was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. She had asked him to stay. They both knew he couldn't for a myriad of reasons, but she had still asked. Ever since her death, he had wondered what would have happened if he had stayed? Would he have been able to help in the final fight, would his presence have changed the outcome? Or was his Slayer fated to meet her end that bitter morning? And if it was fate, then what was she doing here, now, a totally different person?

The rest of the gang had started to the door, but stopped when Angel said suddenly, "She's waking up. I saw her hand move." Angel stared intently at her hand, willing it to move again. He was sure if she would only wake up, she could tell them what was going on.

* * *

She heard voices around her. She wanted to talk to them, but she was so tired. Everything hurt. One voice stood out from all the others, warm and comforting. She needed to talk to him. She struggled past the fatigue.

Pushing her eyelids up, she stared glassily up at him. She smiled and murmured, "Angel…" Her eyes moved past him. "And Cordelia? Your hair…?" A stab of panic shot through her. "Where's Dawn?" She tried to sit up but succumbed quickly to the continuing effects of the drugs and fell back into unconsciousness.

They stood stock still, looks of shock on their faces. Angel shook his head. "I don't care what you say; that _is_ Buffy. She knew me, us."

Wesley nodded. "I think it might be time to involve some of her friends from Sunnydale."

Angel nodded slowly. "Call Giles. Let him decide who else, if anyone, should know at this point."


	4. Found and Lost

A couple of hours later found Cordelia sitting in an armchair in Buffy/Liz's room. The others were downstairs researching. Wesley had gotten in touch with Giles, who was going to be flying out in the next day or two. They had decided not to alert Dawn or Buffy's friends at this point. Her death had been excessively traumatic to Dawn. Giles felt that it was in her best interests to have some answers before talking to the Scoobies.

Angel had initially stayed upstairs until Cordelia insisted that he take a break. "Cordy, I don't want here to wake up alone. God knows what she's been through."

"Angel, we don't even know _who's_ going to wake up! Besides, you are about to wear a hole through the floor with the pacing. I'll stay here with her for a while. You go downstairs, stare at a book, go punch something, I don't care, just go!" Cordy pointed to the door and refused to move until Angel reluctantly left. Then Cordelia curled up in the chair, opened the nearly incomprehensible book she had brought up with her and began reading.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

It was quiet. Her body felt so tired and achy. She slowly opened her eyes, seeing an unfamiliar room. Seeing the wallpaper, she wondered what she was doing in a hotel. Searching her memory, she tried to remember what had happened, but everything was blurry right now. Looking to her other side, she saw a woman reading in a chair. She cleared her throat.

Cordy looked up in surprise. "Oh my god, you're awake! You're," she stopped, unsure as to who she was addressing. She put her book down.

"What am I doing here? Who are you?"

"Well, that's kind of complicated," Cordy began. "I'm Cordelia Chase, I work for Angel Investigations. What do you remember about this morning?"

"I remember going out to the dig site and walking in, but everything after that is fuzzy," Liz replied.

"Okay," Cordy said slowly. "Well, you had a seizure while you were there."

"So you brought me to a hotel?" She glanced down under the blankets and saw the hospital gown. "And changed my clothes," she noted with alarm.

"Oh, no, we didn't do that. You were taken to the hospital. We brought you here later. And it's not a hotel, exactly. This is Angel Investigations."

"But why?"

"Well, you hired us to help," Cordelia said with a winning smile.

Liz looked incredulous. "I hired you to help identify an artifact. As far as I know, you guys are not medical professionals."

"Liz, the hospital wasn't exactly the safest place for you to be."

Liz started trying to get out of bed. "I want my clothes. I want to leave."

"Okay, Liz," Cordelia said in a placating voice. She looked around the room, wondering if Angel and Wesley had thought to bring Liz's clothes. "I will go find you some clothes and I'm gonna get Angel and Wesley. They're going to be able to help explain, I hope. Will you just stay here for a little bit? It's really important that we talk to you before you decide to leave."

Cordelia left the room and then jogged to the stairs. They looked up as she approached. Angel was already on his feet and heading up the stairs. Cordelia caught his arm and he stopped, looking at her. The look in his eyes was so hopeful that she almost hated herself for crushing it.

She said, " _Liz_ is awake and she's feeling kind of, well you know, kidnapped right now."

Angel looked blankly at her.

"She wants to leave. Have you guys found out anything yet? 'Cause I'm thinking right now might not be the best time for this girl to be on her own."

Wesley started toward the stairs as well, motioning Fred and Gunn to stay downstairs. The three of them walked down the hallway to Liz's room. As they started to go in, Cordy suddenly said, "I forgot to ask, did you guys bring her clothes?" At their sheepish looks, she shook her head and huffed, "Men. Okay, I'm going to go see if I have anything that might fit her. I'll be back in a few minutes." She continued down the hallway.

Angel walked through the doorway, followed by Wesley, to see Liz sitting up in bed looking expectantly at them. He asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes," she replied. "You're Angel." He brightened momentarily until she continued, "From the private investigation firm. We met this morning. Now will someone please tell me what's going on here and when I can leave?"

"What is the last thing you remember?" Wesley inquired.

"Like I told her, Cordelia was it? I remember driving you guys to the dig and going in, but that's it. Next thing I know, I'm here, and now I'd like to leave and I think we can pretty much forget about continuing our business relationship too."

"Before you leave, we'd like to share some information with you. We believe your life may be in danger."

"Way to ease into that one, Wes," Angel grumbled.

Liz laughed. "Why would my life be in danger? I had a seizure, yeah, but that's not generally fatal."

Wesley said, "No, but the treatment they had you scheduled for may well have been."

He looked so serious that she paused for a moment. "What do you mean? Who would want me dead? And why?"

"We don't know who, yet. As for why, does the name Buffy Summers ring a bell?"

Liz paled. "I don't talk about that. Who told you about that?"

Cordelia had just entered the room with an armful of clothing. "No one had to tell us, although I did have a brief talk with your mother." She dumped the clothes on the bed and said, "See if there's anything there you can wear. You'll probably be better off with the skirts than the jeans, but you can always roll the legs up."

Liz ignored the clothes. "What do you mean no one had to tell you?"

Angel pulled the armchair closer to the bed and sat down, looking the frightened young woman in the eye. "No one had to tell us, because we all knew Buffy Summers."

"No, no. Buffy Summers isn't real. It was all, it was a delusion." Liz was fighting to retain control. She had spent so long trying to forget those long years. Now these people wanted to bring it all back up. Then a chilling thought struck her. What if these were new delusions? Except that Angel wasn't new, he'd always been there. And she had to admit that the other two seemed familiar as well. She felt as if her brain were bending in tortuous shapes.

Angel sighed. "I can show you pictures, letters. I can tell you anything you want about my time with Buffy. It was real, Liz. And I don't know what's going on, but somehow, you're her. Or you were her. And I can't just let you leave. Someone was trying to make sure that you didn't get out of that hospital alive and I can't help but think that it has something to do with Buffy."

She laughed a little hysterically. "So, if you're saying Buffy is real, then everything else is real too? There are really vampires and demons and werewolves wandering around out there?"

Cordy and Wesley both cut their eyes to Angel, who nodded slowly. "Yes there are." He thought for a few seconds. "Do you want proof?"

Liz looked him straight in the eye and nodded. Angel's face transformed. She jumped a bit but quickly got hold of herself. Almost despite herself, she found herself leaning toward him, stretching out a hand to run it over his brow ridges, down his cheek, feeling cool flesh under her fingers. Again, it was all so familiar. A surge of emotion filled her. Then, blushing, she pulled back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she trailed off.

"No, it's okay," Angel said as he shifted back to his human visage, stopping himself from grabbing her hand and holding against his face. He held her gaze as he remembered the first time Buffy had touched his game face that way, how she hadn't cared what he looked like. She was the first person to see him as just Angel. And now, here she was sitting in front of him, thinking their entire history was a dream.

They all jumped when they heard a small tap on the door. Looking up, they saw Fred hovering timidly, not wanting to interrupt the emotionally charged atmosphere of the room.

Wesley responded first. "Fred, did you need something?"

"Um, yes, well, the police are downstairs. They want to talk to you and Angel."

Every eye in the room pivoted to Liz, knowing that somehow the police visit was connected and waiting to see if she was going to start screaming that she had been kidnapped. She looked at them wide-eyed and said, "You'd better go see what they want."

Angel looked at her. "Buf..." he winced and started again. "Liz, they are probably here about you. I would really feel more comfortable if you stayed here until we can figure all this out." She wouldn't look him the eyes and it made him nervous. What would she say if the cops wanted to talk to her? "If it's okay with you, I'm going to tell them that you're not here."

She half-shrugged, half-nodded. Part of her wanted to run screaming down to the police officers and have them take her somewhere safe, away from these people who believed in vampires and demons and Slayers. But another, increasingly large, part of her kept saying to trust them, to trust Angel. Her head versus her heart. And something told her that making the wrong decision could have disastrous consequences.

Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia shared a worried look as they left the room.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Angel descended the stairs slowly, casually, as he scanned the five officers waiting in the lobby, being watched carefully by a defiant looking Gunn. He saw two faces he recognized, neither as a friend. Angel moved over to the reception counter, where he pretended to scan phone messages, before finally walking over to the officers. Wesley and Cordy arranged themselves behind him, while Fred hurried over to stand next to Gunn, who put a protective arm around her shoulders.

"What can I do for you, Detective Ryder?" Angel said, addressing the tall plainclothes officer that had been hounding him for years.

The detective snarled, "Come off it, Angel. Where is she?"

"Who?"

"We have you and the Brit on tape taking Liz Snow from the hospital." Wesley winced, he hadn't thought about security cameras in his rush to get her out of there.

Angel just smiled. "If there's a problem with the bill, I'm sure she'll be happy to settle up at a later date."

"Angel," Ryder warned. "Don't jerk me around. Kidnapping an unconscious woman? That's low, even for you."

Angel shook his head. "Don't know what you're talking about. We didn't kidnap her. She woke up and wanted to leave, something about not trusting that she was receiving the care she needed. So, we helped her leave."

The detective looked unconvinced. "Well, maybe when I hear her tell me that... Where is she?"

"I don't know. We came back here, chatted for a bit and then she left." Angel was pretty sure this was not convincing anyone. He was right.

"We'll just take a look around ourselves okay?" Angel made as if to stop them, when Ryder handed him a piece of paper. "Warrant. Don't get yourself in any more trouble than you already are."

Angel glanced at the legal paper in his hand. It looked proper, as far as he could tell. Ryder was splitting his men up, having two search each wing of the hotel. Angel indicated that Wesley and Gunn should go with those searching the unoccupied wing, while he followed the two who were heading toward the room where they had left Liz.

Her room was about halfway down the hall and it took a few minutes for them to make their way down to it, checking each room and any adjoining bathrooms along the way. Angel was racking his brain trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why he had said she was gone. Then they were at her room. One of the officers opened the door and stepped in, reappearing a minute later, "No one there either." Angel fought to keep his face impassive, now mentally willing them to hurry up and get out so he could go check the room himself.

It took them another 15 minutes to declare that Liz was not at the hotel. Ryder looked at Angel. "We will be searching the surrounding areas and talking to your neighbors. I can't prove that you took her against her will, at this point. But don't think you're off the hook. We'll be back." With a nasty look, he turned and led his team out.

As soon as they were out of view, everyone began asking questions, but Angel took off to the second floor. Racing into Liz's room, followed by the rest, he saw the unmade bed scattered with some of the clothes Cordy had brought in. A breeze alerted him to the fact that one of the windows was not shut all the way. As he looked out, he noticed the fire escape landing directly next to it.

"Dammit!" he yelled. She was gone.


	5. Two Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used in this chapter is 'Down My Spine' by Rachael Sage.

After they had left the room, Liz jumped out of bed and started looking through the clothes. Clothes would definitely help with her comfort level. There was something about feeling a draft down your back that was not conducive to logically analyzing one's options. Cordy was right, the clothes were definitely a little long for her, but she found some things that she could make do. She stopped, Cordy? Hadn't she said her name was Cordelia?

Being dressed felt a little bit better. She wondered what was going on downstairs. She also wondered why she was listening to these people. But something told her that they were on her side. She wandered over to the window, looking out into the alley below. Her mind drifted as she leaned her head against the glass. Unbidden, her memory turned to her parents bringing home her baby sister. _We're calling her Dawn._ She shook her head. That wasn't right, she was an only child. Another memory leaped into her mind, this time playing Power Girl with her cousin, followed quickly by the same cousin's funeral. But again, these never happened. They couldn't have. She distinctly remembered living in Europe for her father's job between ages 7 and 9.

Panicky feelings were beginning to take over. She stared out the window, not seeing. Suddenly she wanted to get out of there. But she didn't want to go with the police. Without even being aware of it, she had opened the window and slipped out onto the landing of the fire escape. Quickly making her way to the bottom of the rickety stairs, she lightly leaped the few feet left to the ground and took off down the alleyway.

With no money and no ID, she just walked. Maybe if she walked far enough or fast enough, she could escape these bizarre memories. They were coming faster now, schools she had never attended, watching this Dawn grow up, a growing tension in her parents' marriage, the eventual divorce. It was almost a relief to start experiencing the Sunnydale memories. At least with those, there were no competing memories from her real life. For those times, she was catatonic in a hospital.

It must have been hours later that she looked around, feeling a strange, not altogether comfortable, familiarity with the area. Looking up, she saw a sign identifying the building as the East Hills Teen Center. Then she heard a woman's voice calling, "Buffy?"

Liz turned and saw a young woman with long blonde hair hurrying toward her with a smile on her face. "Buffy, I haven't seen you in forever! I've always wanted to thank you. You changed my life." Anne Steele faltered when she saw the distinct discomfort in the other blonde's face.

"You know me?" Liz asked.

"Yeah," Anne volunteered. "We knew each other a bit years ago. You look beat, why don't you come in and sit down for a bit?"

She had been walking for hours and couldn't remember when she had last eaten. She was exhausted, it was getting dark, and she didn't have any idea where to go next. She smiled at the earnest young woman and followed her inside. They passed a number of teens going about their business, everyone seeming happy to see her. Anne took her back to her office and closed the door.

"You want to talk about it?" Anne asked.

Liz shook her head. Anne motioned to the couch and asked, "You want to sleep on it?"

"Yeah," Liz answered. This woman obviously knew Buffy. She didn't know if she could handle the conversation that would be involved in trying to explain the situation, or to pretend that everything was normal. She laid down gratefully.

Anne brought over a small blanket and said, "I'm going to be doing some paperwork, but I'll try not to disturb you. Let me know if you need anything."

Anne sat at her desk, looking at inventories for a few minutes. Looking back, she saw that Buffy was already asleep. Anne gazed thoughtfully at her. If there was one thing she knew, it was when someone was running from something, and this girl was running. She hoped she would be able to help Buffy. She had been the first person to prove to Anne that she could take care of herself, she just expected it. That had been the turning point in Anne's life. It had been a long, hard road to get to this point, but it all came down to Buffy.

She quietly slipped out of the office and circulated through the house, making sure everyone was cooperating and that there were no problems. She came back to the common room where the evening news was playing. Sitting on the couch, watching the kids sit and talk, or play games, her attention was pulled to the television when a report of an abduction came up with Buffy's picture. Only they were reporting her name as Liz Snow. She looked at the video that was now playing across the screen, her vision pulled to the faces of the two men pushing the wheelchair down the hallway. A number flashed across the screen for information related to this crime.

In a daze, Anne stood up and made her way back to the office. She looked down at the sleeping woman. She had recognized the name Buffy, even if she hadn't seemed entirely comfortable with it. Anne grabbed the phone from its handset on her desk and slipped back out. Dialing quickly, she waited for an answer.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

At the Hyperion, Cordy, Fred, and Wesley were still researching. Gunn had been out looking for Buffy since the police had left and Angel had followed as soon as the sun went down. Takeout containers on the counter testified to their diligence as they had eaten while they worked.

The silence was suddenly broken. "Oh crap!" Cordy exclaimed.

"Cordelia if you spilled nail polish remover on the computer again, I swear," Wesley began, but she cut him off.

"Oh ha ha, Wesley. That happened one time! No, this is about the case, Mr. Pessimist, and it's not good." Wesley and Fred immediately got up and crowded around Cordy's computer.

"Wolfram & Hart," Fred gasped.

"Yep," Cordelia agreed. "They are apparently the source of the funding for this dig. If we had any lingering doubts about Liz having some tie to Buffy, I'd say this pretty much clears them all up for me."

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Gunn answered his phone, expecting it to be someone from the office. He had been wandering the city for hours with no trace of Liz. He was ready to pack it in for the night.

"Charles?" It took him a second to place the voice.

"Annie!" he exclaimed. "Good to hear from you. What's new?"

"I have something here that I think you might want to see."

"Aw, man, I wish I could. But I've actually got a kind-of missing person to look for tonight."

Anne nodded to herself. "Yeah, about that. If you're talking about the girl who's all over the news, the one that your friends took from the hospital today, she's here."

"You sure, Anne?" Gunn couldn't believe his luck. "Did she tell you her name?"

"No," Anne replied. "I thought it was Buffy at first, but she seemed really uncomfortable when I called her that."

Gunn was already changing direction to head to the Teen Center. "Wait, you know Buffy?"

Anne laughed nervously. "A long time ago, in another life."

Gunn nodded. "I hear ya. I'll be there in 20 minutes. Try to keep her there."

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

On his way to the Teen Center, Gunn called Angel to let him know he could head back to the hotel. Angel resisted. "How do we know this is really her?"

"Anne seemed pretty positive. She says she knew Buffy from back in the day."

"All right. You're closer. Go ahead and pick her up, meet us back at the hotel. I'm going to try to get Lorne to come by, see if he can do a reading for us."

"Cool, man. Meet you there."

Gunn hung up and continued on. Parking down the street from the center, he hopped out of the truck and headed up and through the front door. One of the kids in the common room directed him back to the office. He tapped softly on the door.

Anne opened it with a smile. "Hey," she said softly, stepping back to let him in. "She's just waking up."

Gunn's eyes flicked to the couch and saw Liz/Buffy stretching and sitting up. "Hey," he said. Liz looked up at him, then away, confused. Anne nodded and then slipped out the door, giving them some privacy.

Gunn pulled up a chair. "How're you feeling?" he asked gently.

She took a deep breath. "Confused."

He nodded. "That why you left?"

"I guess so. Everything got so... muddled. I just wanted to clear my head." She looked at Gunn. "Can you guys really help me?"

Gunn nodded. "It's what we do. We've solved stranger cases than this. In fact, if you come back with me now, we're getting someone to come in who might be able to help out."

"Let's go." She folded up the blanket and laid it on the back of the couch. They thanked Anne on the way out and headed down the block.

Halfway to the truck, several figures appeared out of the darkness surrounding them. Looking around, Gunn didn't see any way out except to fight. Trying to keep one eye on Liz, he countered the two that immediately rushed them from the street side. He saw the other two heading for her, but couldn't break free from his attackers. He could hear the sounds of fighting from her general vicinity and figured she was at least resisting. In a few minutes, he had managed to overcome his two attackers and turned to see what the status was with the others. He might as well have been watching an action film. The two involved in the fight with her were definitely more adept fighters than those he had just finished off. And she was not merely resisting, she was defending, counter-attacking, and pulling off moves he wasn't sure even Angel could counter. Gunn stood there, staring, as she finally sent the last one into a deep sleep and then shook himself back to the present.

"We'd better go, now," he yelled, pointing down the block where more figures loomed.

Together they ran for the truck, leaping in, and tearing away just as the second wave reached them.

Gunn was grinning from the excitement of the fight, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "Woo! Nothing better, right?" he exclaimed, glancing over at her.

Liz sat there in the truck, feeling like she was in shock. She ran her hands through her hair. "What just happened?" she asked.

"You just kicked some major butt."

"Who were those guys? What did they want?"

"Don't know who they were, but what they wanted was you. And I'm really glad you were up for holding your own, 'cause otherwise there wouldn't have been too much I could've done." Gunn looked over again. She looked really shaken. "I'm going to get you back to the hotel. We'll be safe there."

During the ride, she sat silent, her brain filled with memories of fights and training and she remembered learning all those moves she had used tonight. Only it had never been real. That's what they told her, it wasn't real. Feeling almost nauseated with the conflicting memories, she tried to clear her mind when Gunn's voice broke through.

"Okay," he said in a worried tone. "Switching to plan B. Scootch down in your seat, so no one can see you."

"What?"

"We got some people waiting for us outside the hotel. I'm gonna have to bring you in the back way."

Liz crouched down and Gunn drove slowly past the hotel. After a couple blocks, he pulled over and parked. He led Liz quickly to an all-night diner, hustling her into the kitchen with a smile at one of the waitresses. "Sewer access," he explained to Liz.

A few minutes later, they were in the basement of the Hyperion.

As they came into the lobby through the door from the basement, Fred jumped. "Sorry about that, guys, but we got company out front," Gunn explained.

Liz had been following him, but stopped short when she saw the latest addition standing in the lobby. The green skin, the horns, the red eyes were bad enough, but the powder blue lounge suit on top of it all was truly distressing.

Gunn noticed she wasn't behind and turned to find her staring at Lorne. He smiled, "Yeah, Liz. This is that outside help I was talking about." He indicated the empath demon. "This is Lorne. And Lorne, this is," Gunn faltered.

Angel cut in. "We're hoping you can tell us who this is."

"Well, I will certainly do my best, gang. This girl is just too pretty to to have these kind of problems."

She stood unsure of what exactly was going on and more than a little disconcerted at the being casually sitting in the middle of the lobby. Angel walked over to her, while Wesley queried Gunn.

"You said we have company out front? Could you tell who it was?"

Gunn shook his head. "Looked human and well-armed. That's pretty much all I got."

Wesley sighed. "That would fit. We have found out that Wolfram & Hart is the client funding this dig. We have to assume that their interest is in more than just the artifact."

"What do you mean?" Liz asked. "Who are Wolfram & Hart and what are they interested in?" Her voice was bordering on hysteria.

Angel put his hands gently on her shoulders, feeling again the electric thrill that always came from touching Buffy. "We'll explain everything, but first you need to sing for Lorne."

Her expression was one of disbelief. "Sing?" she repeated.

Fred piped up, her heart going out at the lost expression on their guest's face. It was only a few years ago that she had felt just as lost and conflicted as she tried to adapt back to life in this dimension. "Lorne can read your destiny, but only if you sing. We've all done it at one time or another."

Lorne offered, "Just pick something that speaks to you and let the music say it for you."

Liz looked around. "Just right here?" she said doubtfully.

"Well, if they're watching the hotel, we can't exactly take you to Lorne's karaoke bar. So, yeah, right here," Angel supplied.

Lorne offered, "I brought my portable kit, if you'd like to see what I've got."

Liz nodded and looked through Lorne's abbreviated song list. She picked one, Lorne set it up, and music filled the lobby. Filled with trepidation, she began to sing.

All she ever wanted in this whole world

was to dance her bones away

all she ever wanted in this whole wide world

was to scream what she could not say

why is it cold and mean all the time

why do i always feel

like a straight line is crawling

in and out and up and down my spine

even when i am sleeping

All she ever wanted in this whole world

was to dance her bones away

Only how she haunted in this whole wide world

she wished she could waste away

why is it cold and mean all the time

why do i always feel like a

straight line is crawling

in and out and up and down my spine

even when i am sleeping

somebody open up her hands

somebody open her hands up

so she can listen through her fingers

and finally touch it

somebody open up her voice

open her voice wide like a river

so time can deliver

all its

sweetness

woman lies awake dreaming like alice

in some sequined wonderland

still hallucinating

that her dark prince

is gonna come and take her hand

lift it from the ground

it's been buried so long

turn it all around until there's nothing wrong

even when i am sleeping

all the time

why do i

always feel like a

straight line is crawling

in and out and up and down my spine

even when i am sleeping

Angel stood staring at her as she looked anywhere but at him. She felt suddenly as if she had bared her soul for everyone in the room to see. She knew Angel was the dark prince of her dreams, and she knew that he would know it now too. Everyone else was looking toward Lorne, waiting for his response.

Lorne looked distinctly perplexed. "Well, this is different," he said slowly. Liz looked at him, happy to focus on someone she didn't feel any connection to. He looked into her face as if he could divine even more with just a look.

Finally, Wesley cleared his throat and asked, "Can you tell us what is happening here?"

"Well, I can tell you some of the what, but not the why."

Angel said tersely, "At this point, we'll take what we can get." Liz wasn't so sure, but went ahead and sat down with everyone anyway.

Lorne looked at the expectant faces. "She's the Slayer," he said succinctly. Before Angel could fully recognize the emotions tearing through him, Lorne followed up with, "And she's Liz Snow."

Gunn said, "Lorne, that doesn't make sense. One person can't be, well two people."

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you. But I read what I read. I see Buffy Summers' life all laid out behind, and running right along side it almost the entire way is Liz Snow's."

Liz's quiet voice asked with trepidation, "So, which one is real?"

"They both are, sweetie pie. That's what I don't get. They are both the genuine article."

"But Buffy died. Surely you're not seeing her now, are you?" Angel asked.

Lorne hemmed and hawed. "Well, her path predominantly exists in the past. But it does seem to be popping up here and there even now."

Angel felt a wave of anger. The Powers That Be just couldn't leave well enough alone. Not that Buffy being dead was 'well-enough' but he didn't think he could take them interfering with his life any more.

Wesley interjected, "You didn't see anything connected with Wolfram & Hart, did you Lorne?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Whatever they're up to is not something I'm privy to."

Cordelia watched Angel, worried about his reaction, as Angel watched Liz/Buffy. His jaw was set and tense; she was pale and shaking.

"I don't understand what this all means," she said. She looked at each of them, hoping to see answers somewhere. All she saw were perplexed, compassionate expressions. Her breath came in shallow, quick waves. "I'd like, I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

Angel was on his feet immediately. He helped her up saying, "Of course. You can stay in the same room. I'll take you."

She acquiesced. "Is there a phone in there?" she asked. "I'd like to call my mom. Just let her know that I'm okay." She laughed at the irony. She was anything but okay at this point.

"Yeah, you can call her." Angel led her upstairs and down the hall to her room. He opened the door and stood back to let her enter. "Well," he said awkwardly, "I'll let you get some rest."

She tilted her head back a bit as she looked up at him, getting a little lost in his beautiful brown eyes. Her dark prince. Her lips parted slightly and she leaned up toward his face. He felt dizzy as she neared him, desperately wanting to crush her to him, yet fearing he would scare her off if he made a move. At the last minute, she changed her direction and brushed her lips across his cheek. He tried not to let his disappointment show. She quickly turned and hurried inside the room.


	6. Power

She sat huddled on the bed. The phone call to her mother had been disastrous. What had she expected? _Hi, Mom. I'm fine, but I'm not coming home right now._ The doctor had apparently convinced her mother that she was likely to have more seizures without further medication. It broke her heart to hear her mother crying and pleading with her to come home, to tell her where she was. But she wanted answers, she needed them, and Angel, Cordy, even that demon guy seemed like the best chance she had to get them.

Over the past hour, the dual memories had begun fading away. She could recall Buffy's memories if she wanted to, but she felt pretty much like just Liz again. Somehow that felt wrong, though. She wasn't sure she was comfortable as Liz anymore. And Liz certainly wouldn't have _almost_ kissed Angel. She flushed just remembering about the look in his eyes outside her door. Not wanting to think about that, she buried herself under the covers and closed her eyes. She had slept more today than in the last week cumulatively, but she just wanted to escape.

Downstairs, research continued.

"Okay, we know Wolfram & Hart is funding the dig," Angel recapped. "We suspect that it's their men who attacked Buffy and Gunn and are watching the hotel. And it's not out of the realm of possibility that their reach extends to having a doctor or two in their pocket to manipulate her treatment at the hospital. But how do we put this all together? Wes, do you have any leads on what the hell it was that they dug up?"

Wesley put aside yet another volume of Slayer lore, shaking his head. "Angel, all we have to go on is a sketch of the object and an assumed connection to Slayers. I haven't found any answers yet." At the look on his friend's face, he hurriedly followed up with, "But we're not giving up."

"I'm about ready to start mounting an assault on Wolfram & Hart right now, so let's hope we find something soon." The tension was wearing on Angel's nerves and he would indeed welcome a pitched battle just to give him something to do.

They all had books in front of them, occasionally getting up to stretch or wander around and let their eyes rest. By 2AM, Cordy and Fred were asleep with their heads on the desktops in front of them. Gunn was nodding off. Wesley had lost count of how many times he had read the same paragraph without comprehension. Angel sat lost in thought, trying to recall everything from the dig site, desperate for any lead they could follow up.

Then suddenly the words Wesley had been rereading coalesced into coherent sentences. He sat up, feeling wide awake as he compared the illustration to the sketch Liz had in her file. Gunn looked curiously at him. "What's up man?"

Angel stirred when he heard Gunn's voice and came over to where Wesley was now furiously making notes. "Just a moment," he said absently. Another minute of scribbling and he sat back, an astounded look on his face. "This is it," he said, indicating the book.

Angel grabbed the volume and looked at it. He couldn't read the language, but the illustration was quite detailed and matched Liz's sketch perfectly. He looked at Wesley. "What is it? What does it do?"

"Angel, this is ancient, dating back to the first Slayer." He looked back at his notes and translations, comparing them to the original text. "This was the repository of the Slayer power. Initially, the power did not pass automatically from one Slayer to the next. It would return to this stone, the elders would choose the next Slayer and perform the ritual to draw the power from the stone and transfer it to her. It wasn't until much later that the Slayer power began making the choice itself."

Gunn nodded. "Okay, but if Slayer power is out there on its own now, this stone is just a stone, right? What do evil-lawyers-incorporated want with it?"

Cordy and Fred started waking up as the voices echoed through the lobby. Stretching, they walked over to listen.

Wesley replied, "I can't really be sure of anything. We'd have to test the stone, of course. But I would surmise that it is possible that there could be a residue of the ancient power still lingering. Of course!" They all jumped at Wesley's sudden increase in excitement level. "That's why she reacted so strongly to it. She said she was the only one who thought there was anything unusual about it, and then when she touched it..."

Angel was silent, reflecting on this discovery. She was Buffy, but somehow she was also Liz. Coming into contact with the Slayer stone must have drawn the bit of her that was Buffy closer to the surface. Did that mean that Buffy wasn't really gone? Despite the wonderful thoughts that flooded him at this thought, he forced his mind back to the more immediate concern.

"Wolfram & Hart want to harness the Slayer power for themselves. They already tried to use Faith. Just think how excited they would be to give that power to a hand-picked... assassin." He was disgusted. He had always hated the cavalier way the Watchers' Council had treated the Slayers, but he could only imagine that Wolfram & Hart would make the Council look positively beneficent.

"Yes," Wesley agreed. "You may be right. The question now is whether Liz being part of the dig was coincidental or planned. They have the stone already, but still seemed interested in her whereabouts. Do they need her in some way to activate the stone?" he mused.

Angel's heart dropped. He strode to the front door, pulling it open and running out into the night. He returned a moment later. "They're gone," was all he shared as he raced up the stairs to the second floor.

Fred started to ask, "But why would they leave?" when the answer occurred to all of them and they followed Angel up the stairs.

He was standing in her doorway, looking at an empty room for the second time that day. He felt chilled and empty inside. They had taken her right from under his nose.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

They had grabbed her so quickly, she hadn't even had a chance to cry out. She was aware of a hand over her mouth, a quick pinprick in her arm and then darkness. Now she was slowly coming back to awareness and really wishing she wasn't. She was cold and very uncomfortable. Trying to pinpoint the discomfort, she finally realized that her hands were tied behind her back. She was lying on her side with her back against a wall. She didn't hear anything or anyone. Finally daring to open her eyes, she looked around.

She was alone in a room with no windows that she could see. It was dimly lit by flickering fire torches held in wall sconces. The walls themselves were decorated with strange drawings and there was some type of raised platform in the middle of the floor. In the far wall was a closed door. She slowly managed to raise herself to a sitting position, only to find it not much more comfortable than laying down.

So why was she here? And where was here? The feeling from earlier that she was just Liz now was persisting, just when being Buffy-ish would be helpful. She had no clue what to do. Even when she tried, she couldn't seem to access Buffy's memories or ideas at this point. Would Angel or the others even know she was gone before morning? Feeling scared and helpless, she pulled her knees up and rested her head on them, trying not to cry.

A warm woosh of air spread through the room as the door opposite her opened. She looked up, terrified of what might come through it. Several people in business suits came in, along with her mentor, Philip Moore. They were followed by several more hooded figures. She saw that Professor Moore was carrying the strange stone that seemed to have started all this. He placed it on a pedestal on the platform and then looked around. His eyes widened when he saw her.

He turned to a younger man beside him. "What is she doing here? Why is she tied up?"

When the man answered, it was with a pronounced southern drawl. "She is crucial to ritual. We didn't think she'd cooperate without some incentive."

Dr. Moore looked outraged. "Mr. McDonald, you told me she was only needed to help find the stone. I demand you release her at once."

An attractive woman walked up, laughing. "You are really in no position to demand anything, Doctor." She motioned to someone and suddenly Dr. Moore was being physically escorted to where Liz sat.

"Sit," said the escort, producing a gun. Liz felt her heart pounding in her chest.

All around the room, a type of controlled chaos permeated. Large books, resembling those that Angel and his friends had been reading, were being set up at the four corners of the room. Various instruments, some quite lethal looking, were being laid out on a table near the platform.

Liz looked to her professor. "Dr. Moore," she said, trying to suppress tears, "what is going on?"

He looked at her guiltily. "It was never supposed to come to this. They told me you would be helpful in locating the artifact. But you were never supposed to be here." He looked back to the two who seemed to be in charge. "What are you planning to do with her?"

Lindsay walked over, refusing to look at Liz, crouching down to address the professor directly. "We need her blood to activate the power within the stone; her body will then channel the power as it is pulled back to its source." Liz whimpered.

"But she'll be okay, right?" the professor pressed.

"Well," Lindsay responded. "Based on how she responded when she touched the stone earlier, probably not. But here's the good news: you get your money." He patted Dr. Moore on the shoulder and stood back up, walking away. The doctor looked at Liz to find her looking at him horrified.

"Liz, the way he makes it sound, it wasn't like that." His words sounded hollow even to his own ears. He pleaded with her, "I had so much I wanted to do and I couldn't get a grant. Then they approached me, said they would fund my research for the next five years if I just got you to work this one dig with me. They said somehow you would be drawn to the piece they wanted. What could that hurt?"

"And you believed them?" Liz asked. She felt sick. This man that had taught her so much had sold her out for a research grant?

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Giles arrived at the address Wesley had given him. His plane had landed just before dawn. As he entered the lobby, it struck him as strangely empty.

"Hello?" he called.

A tired looking young woman with long brown hair came out of the office. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Rupert Giles. I would like to see Angel or Wesley." Though exhausted, he was anxious to find out what they had discovered while he was traveling.

"Oh, Mr. Giles," Fred stammered, looking flummoxed. "I'm Fred. They, um, they're not here right now."

He looked at the nervous girl. "Has something happened?" For most of the past day, his thoughts had been filled with the potential of seeing his dear Slayer again. Despite his best efforts, his hopes had been rising the whole trip. But looking at the empty hotel and the nervous girl in front of him, he felt those hopes crashing around him.

"Well, yes," Fred offered. She looked at the devastated look on the older gentleman's face. "Please sit down. Would you like something to eat or drink? Maybe some tea?"

Giles nodded gratefully. Fred quickly prepared a cup of tea and brought it over to him, along with some crackers. As he drank, she brought him up to speed through the discovery of Liz's abduction.

"Now, everyone is out looking for her. I guess we kind of forgot you were coming in, otherwise I'm sure that Wesley or Angel would have stayed behind to meet you."

"No, no. It's best that they are out looking for her."

"Maybe you'd like to put your stuff away. I can set up a guest room for you."

"Actually," Giles responded. "I'd like to look at the research, see if I can... make myself feel useful."

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Several people had left the room, including Lindsay and Lilah. Liz was crying quietly, adrenaline, disappointment, and pain all trying to pour out of her at once. She really wished she had kissed Angel now.

It took a minute for her to realize that Dr. Moore had moved himself much closer to her. Now his right hand seemed to be slipping behind her back. She almost gasped aloud when she felt a small pen knife graze her hand, stifling the noise when she saw the warning in his eyes. Taking the knife, she struggled to turn it around and started seesawing it against the nylon cords binding her wrists.

The strange hooded figures began chanting, the sound echoing eerily in the small room. The noises covered Dr. Moore's whisper, as he leaned closer to her. "Get through the door and head down the hallway on the right. There's a street exit at the end." He looked at her, affection showing in his eyes. "I never meant for you to be in danger. I was stupid to trust them, but please believe me."

She nodded.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly. She nodded again, having no idea how she was going to make it to the door. She was just about to ask when the professor launched himself up from where he was sitting and rushed the platform in the middle of the room. Everyone immediately converged on him or tried to cut him off. For a split second, she sat there horrified and astounded, then realizing that all eyes were on him, she raced around the room to the door, pulling it open. She started down the hallway.

After a few steps though, the guilt became overwhelming and she turned. She couldn't leave him behind. No mistake could be worth that. Just then, the door was thrown open again and Dr. Moore came barreling through, holding the stone. He saw her hesitating and screamed, "Run!"

She turned and ran. Even as she did, she heard the door open yet again. There were shouts behind her and running footsteps. Then a deafening bang split the air. She heard a thud behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her professor lying on the ground, blood already pooling beneath his chest. She ran back the few steps to where he lay.

Gasping, he lay there. When he saw her, he mouthed, "Go". She saw people barreling down the hallway.

"Come with me, I'll get you help," she begged.

"No, Liz. Just go!" He pushed the stone toward her. "Take it. But don't touch it."

Tears falling down her face, she quickly pulled off the jacket she was wearing, wrapping it around the stone and took off down the hallway, running as fast as her feet would carry her. Multiple memories once again flooded her mind, but she just kept focusing on the door that was now in sight.

Pushing through it into the bright light of dawn caused her to stumble and hesitate for a moment. Then she veered right and started running down the city street. She heard a vehicle pulling alongside of her, wheels screeching as it braked suddenly. "Liz, get in!" Gunn's voice cut through the chaos inside her head and her heart. She jumped through the open door, slamming it behind her and Gunn peeled away, several bullets pinging through his tailgate.


	7. Choices

Gunn looked over at the blonde sagging against the seat. "Liz?" he asked. No answer. "Buffy?" he tried again.

She could hear a voice calling her name, but was unable to find the words to respond. She didn't even know what her name was. Conflicting memories, beliefs, and experiences were warring in her brain, effectively paralyzing her.

She was breathing rapidly and underneath the bundle she held tightly to her chest, Gunn noticed a red stain. Glancing quickly behind them and seeing no one, he slammed on the brakes and reached over to grab the bundle of cloth out of her arms, dropping it to the floor. Looking at a rather large bloodstain on her shirt, he began to panic.

"What happened to you? Talk to me, dammit!"

A little relief settled in to her brain. She was able to focus on him, then look down at herself. "Not mine," she forced out. Tears rolled down her face as she closed her eyes. "I just want to go home," she said quietly. She didn't know where home was, but she needed to be there. It would be quiet there, calm and peaceful.

Not sure where she was referring to, Gunn simply nodded and headed toward the Hyperion, calling the others to alert them that he had found her.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Gunn supported Liz/Buffy through the front door of the hotel, the wrapped stone in his other arm. Glancing around, he saw that everyone was back already, with the addition of an older gentleman in tweed talking to Wesley. All eyes turned toward them as the door shut loudly behind them.

"We're here, but it's a safe bet that Wolfram & Hart's goons are gonna be storming through that door any minute. I picked her up outside one of their storage facilities. Nobody followed us, but they pretty much don't have to, really."

"It's okay, Gunn," said Angel, coming over to help him escort her to a seat. "Wesley and Giles have already prepped some defensive spells. They're going to cast them now." He looked back as he did to see Giles standing there with a stunned expression on his face.

They had told him that she looked exactly like Buffy. Fred had told him about the results of Lorne's reading. But still, standing here years after he had lost his Slayer and seeing her was astounding. He wanted to go to her, but Wesley was practically pulling on his sleeve and he suddenly realized that yet again, duty superseded personal desire. He set about casting the protective spells.

Slowly, the maelstrom in her head was quieting. She was becoming more aware of her surroundings, starting with Angel's strong shoulder underneath her cheek. She nestled against him and felt his arm settle across her shoulders, pulling her tighter to him. She became aware of him speaking to the others, although it was too much work to follow the words. She was content, just for this moment, to let him handle everything.

Angel and the others were spit-balling increasingly bizarre ideas as to why this had happened to her and what they could do about it. Finally, Giles and Wesley finished with their spells and joined them. Giles could not tear his eyes away from her, remembering the last time he had seen her, her body broken from the fall.

Feeling someone watching her, she looked around. "Giles?" she asked, smiling, quickly distracted by Wesley, who was arguing with Cordelia about the feasibility of recreating Buffy's last battle so that her spirit could attend to whatever it had left unfinished.

Before anyone else could say anything, the front door opened and a small, badly dressed figure stepped through. Everyone was on their feet immediately, Angel pushing Liz/Buffy behind him.

"Whoa, whoa, what's with the welcoming committee?"

She peered out from behind Angel, just to be sure, and said in unison with him, "Whistler?"

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Lilah was glaring at Lindsay. "This whole disaster was your idea," she accused. They sat outside their boss's office, waiting for the fallout from escape of the pseudo-Slayer with the relic.

"You were right there with me the whole time, Lilah. You could have voiced your objections at any point. If this had worked, we would have had the ability to choose any one we wanted to imbue with Slayer power."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Because we've had such great luck in dealing with the Slayer. May I remind what Faith did to Lee before using us to find Angel so she find redemption." Lilah fluttered her eyes, sighed, and held her hand over heart as she uttered those repulsive words. "What is it about that vampire that turns everyone around him so unutterably good?"

"Whatever, Lilah."

The door opened and the grim face of Linwood Murrow looked out at them. They rose and silently entered the office to face the music.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

While she and Angel relaxed into an attitude of mild annoyance and interest, the rest of the team maintained their suspicious postures until Angel told them to stand down. As Whistler proceeded to saunter nearer, Wesley said, "I will relax when I find out how he got through our barriers. If there is a weakness, we need to know before Wolfram & Hart can take advantage of it."

"Nah," Whistler replied. "Just consider it a special Messenger from The Powers exemption."

Cordy looked at him. "Messenger from The Powers?" she repeated, looking him and down.

He nodded. "Messenger, errand runner, all-around generally unappreciated dog," he sighed. "But we're not here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you two." He looked at Angel and the blonde still tucked against his side. "You two kids." He shook his head. "The Powers lay out their plans and the two of you get together and just blow 'em all up!"

"You know what's going on here?" Angel asked in an accusing voice.

"I've been given certain insights. Actually, I've been sent to repair the damage you two have done. But we'll get to that."

She detached herself from Angel's side and started toward Whistler, feeling the urge to 'encourage' him to move his story along. She hadn't taken two steps when the fury of thoughts in her brain set back in. Dizziness drove her to her knees.

"Uh, Angel, you might want to keep a hand on her for the time being. Or any body part you find appropriate." Angel had already hastened to her side and was helping her to her feet. As she leaned into him, she felt the calm reappear.

"Why, Whistler? What the hell is going on?"

"Well, at the end of this, our young lady is going to have to make a choice. And it would be easier to make that choice if she can concentrate when I'm explaining the details."

"And my touching her helps her concentrate how?" he asked, aware that touching her was driving him out of his mind at her closeness.

"It does, Angel," she said quietly. "When we're touching, it's calmer inside and then when I walked away, it all came crashing back in."

"Okay, no problem. Just stay with me." He led her back to the chairs and they both sat down. "And as for you, spill."

Whistler hopped up to take a seat on the counter. "Okay, kids, here's the deal. Buffy Summers, quite possibly the greatest Slayer that ever lived, had a short and angst-ridden life. She died a heroic and noble death protecting her sister and the world." At the reminder, Giles began cleaning his glasses and Angel shifted uncomfortably. She just kept a tight grip on Angel's hand waiting for something she didn't already know.

"So, The Powers decided that she deserved a, well, a reward."

"A reward," Angel repeated dryly. "Because they've always been so generous."

Whistler shrugged. "Hey, what do I know? They decided to grant her wish to be a normal girl."

She scoffed. "This is normal?"

"Well, it _was_ normal. What they did was to create a whole new life for you, kind of like those monks did with the Key. Thus, Liz Snow was born. They created memories for you, your parents, your family and friends. And it was all good. You were going to live out the rest of your normal life as Liz."

"I was going to?" she prompted.

Whistler sighed. "How Wolfram & Hart found out about you is still a mystery. The Senior Partners have some power but no one expected this. But they did find you and they got a lead on the stone and decided to take advantage of the situation. The closer you got to the Slayer Stone, the thinner the walls between your current life and your previous life became.

"Then you had to go and find Angel. Of all the people, or whatever, in the city, you found him. Sometimes makes me think there's another force at work where you two are concerned. Anyway, once you and Angel were standing right next to each other, all bets were off. The walls between your realities crumbled and Liz's reality started to try to rewrite itself to compensate."

"Compensate how, exactly?" asked Giles.

"For instance, before Angel met Liz, she had never spent any time in a psychiatric facility. That piece of her history was added to make sense of the memories leaking over from Buffy's experiences."

"But I remember it," she said. First she had two lives, now one of them was rewriting itself at will.

"Eh, reality is mutable. It's all about perceptions."

Cordelia shook her head. "It figures. Even when the Powers try to do something nice, it's a problem!"

Whistler nodded, then glanced upward guiltily. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, the more time you spent with Angel, the more you were able to recognize both lifetimes, until we have this." He indicated Liz/Buffy. "Right now, Angel is grounding you, attracting the bits of Buffy to the surface, which I imagine quiets the chaos in your mind." She nodded.

"Okay," Wesley said. "We know what is going on and why. But how do we fix this? She can't continue to live like this." They all looked at her. She gave them a weak smile in return and waved, while staying very close to Angel.

"Yes indeed. Now to the official part of my message. The Powers would like me to convey to you that to return to normal, all you have to do is break the stone. That is Liz breaks the stone."

"Normal," she asks. "You mean my life as Liz?"

Angel worked very hard to keep his face impassive. He had known all along that it was unlikely that Buffy had been returned to him. The Powers and their rewards only went so far. Giles was less successful at hiding his disappointment. As she looked around, she saw how much older he looked than when she had last seen him, when he had fought by her side against Glory.

Whistler remained silent. "That's what they would like you to know."

She exchanged a puzzled look with Angel. "What is it that they _don't_ want me to know?" she asked, the irritation in her voice reminding several of them of the old Buffy.

Whistler smiled and looked around. "You have a choice," he whispered, as if that would stop the Powers from overhearing his revelation. She looked at him blankly. "The life that you are holding in your thoughts at the moment the stone breaks will be the life you return to."

"Well, that's not much of a choice. Buffy's dead," Cordy bluntly interjected. "Who'd want to go back to being dead?"

"No, she's not. As you can see, she's standing right in front of you. It's just a matter of which lifetime she wants to recognize."

"I can choose?" She thought for a moment. "So if I choose Liz's life, what happens? It just all resets to normal?"

"Yeah, pretty much. The Powers would erase all memories that were created by this little glitch and Liz would go on, none the wiser."

"So, I wouldn't remember any of this?" She looked up at Angel, wondering what it would be like to never see him again. She remembered being on top of the scaffolding in Sunnydale, as she ran to jump, thinking the same thing.

"No, you wouldn't remember. You would just go back to your normal life. Everyone else would remember however, including Wolfram & Hart."

She looked frightened. "Then what's the point?" she cried. "If they still know about me, even if the stone is destroyed, they'll keep trying to find a way to use me. I'll never be safe."

"Yes, you will," Angel said firmly, turning so that he could look into her eyes. "If that is your choice, I swear that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, from Wolfram & Hart or anything else that might come your way." It would break his heart, watching her live her life, knowing that she didn't know who he was, but he would do it. She deserved this chance, if that is what she wanted.

"As long as you don't get too near her, Angel, my boy," Whistler replied. "That's what triggered this whole thing you know."

Gunn stood up. "It won't be just Angel. We'll all take care of her."

"Okay," she said slowly. "Now, what if I choose Buffy? Would I remember any of this? Would I still be the Slayer?"

"Don't know. Like I said, the Powers didn't really want you to know about that choice, so they didn't exactly brief me on the specifics."

"What happens to Liz's life? She just dies or ceases to exist? What about my, her, Liz's mom? Friends? Professor Moore?"

"Well, if you return to being Buffy, all the manipulations of reality causing the memories and acceptance of Liz would be reversed. Liz's mother wouldn't even remember that she had had a daughter. The good professor's death will, sadly, not be reversed."

A deep sorrow pervaded her at this, along with another wave of anger at the Powers. The casual disregard with which they manipulated people's lives was nearly incomprehensible. She looked up to see everyone staring at her. Cordelia, bane of her high school existence, who seemed to have become an actual feeling person. Gunn and Fred, who didn't know her from Adam, but had worked so hard to help and protect her over the last few days. Wesley, who was actually a lot smarter than she had given him credit for in the old days. Giles, who was more of a father to her than her biological father ever was, looking careworn. And Angel, with whom she shared a love so deep that it even broke down mystical walls created by the PTB. To be reunited with him, with all of them, would be amazing. Not to mention being able to be a part of Dawn's life, Willow's and Xander's again.

But then she thought about Liz's life. A mother, friends, a career. No worrying about demons and darkness. She had complete confidence in Angel and his friends that they would keep her safe, without her ever knowing. It was everything she thought she had wanted, ever since she was Called.

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with an urge to just be alone. "Whistler, how long do I have to make my decision?"

"Well, we don't want to take too long. Those lawyers will be trying to figure out how to get you and the stone already. The sooner you make a choice, the sooner we break the stone, and you'll be that much safer, whichever choice you make."

She stood up, still loosely holding Angel's hand. "I'd like to be alone for a while." When Angel started as if to protest, she shook her head. "I know, my head will be crazy, but I can't make this decision with you right next to me. Is it safe for you to walk me outside?"

Angel checked with Wesley and Giles, who nodded. "The protection extends to the gates. She should be fine in the courtyard."

Angel stood alongside her and they walked to the door, hand in hand. Walking her out into the courtyard flooded with afternoon sun, she suddenly turned to him. "Why aren't you on fire?"

He laughed. It had been so long that he didn't even think of it any more. He explained, "About a year after you... after your fight with Glory, we defeated yet another apocalyptic demon. The Powers decided that I deserved a reward too, although they were a little more upfront with me about it. So I can go out in the sun. Not that I do a whole lot. But it comes in handy. They, um, they also removed the curse on my soul."

"No curse?" she repeated softly.

"No curse," he confirmed.

All of a sudden, her heart was thudding against her ribs and she felt a dizziness that had nothing to do with dual memories. She disentangled one hand from his and ran her fingers down his cheek. He leaned down toward her, his eyes on hers.

Suddenly, she stepped back. "No, Angel." She winced when she saw the disappointment in his eyes, especially as it mirrored her own. "I have to make this decision and if I kiss you, we both know what I'm going to decide."

He nodded, tamping down the desire to just grab her and make the decision for her.

"You sure you are going to be okay out here by yourself?" he asked, looking for any reason to linger.

She smiled, suspecting his motives. "Yes, Angel, I'm sure. Just come check on me in half an hour or so, okay?"

This time it was his palm against her cheek. She rested her head against the solid support of his hand for a few seconds, then straightened up and nodded.

He stepped away, watching her as the dual memories came crashing over her again. She closed her eyes and, after a minute, a type of serenity settled over her features as she stopped fighting against the inconsistencies. He turned around and went back inside, leaving her alone.

She rode the waves of memories, jumping from Buffy to Liz to Buffy again. She saw the good and the bad, felt the anger and the rage, the joy and the love. The beauty of each life was laid out for her to see. Liz had so much to offer, so much yet to experience. It was a quiet, normal life; a good life. But what would life be like as Buffy again? Would she return to Sunnydale? Would she fight alongside Angel here in LA? She knew that whether she was the Slayer or not, life as Buffy Summers would never be quiet or simple. Faces from each life flew around her mind as she continued to think.

Then she opened her eyes. She had found a strange equilibrium between the memories. Standing up, she walked into the lobby of the hotel. Everyone looked up at her, shocked.

"I've made my decision."


	8. Decisions

Angel felt as if time stopped as they waited for her decision. He couldn't tell by her expression what she would say. Liz Snow was everything she had ever said she wanted. And it would be safer for her, he would make sure of that. But now, he and Buffy could really have had a chance. They hadn't had much chance to talk about what the future could be like for them, everything was happening so fast. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help hoping that wanting to be with him was at least factored into her decision.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Linwood was well into his rant as to how severely they had screwed this one up when he was interrupted by simultaneous rings on Lilah's and Lindsey's phones. Each checked their incoming texts. Lilah looked up with a smile on her face.

"We're ready to break through the hotel's defenses, sir."

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

She took a deep breath, walking toward the now silent group. As she spoke, she kept her eyes on Angel. Her decision would certainly impact him as well.

"You know, Whistler, for being all-powerful, your Powers really are not all-knowing. For instance, almost always what a teenage girl says she wants is usually the worst thing for her and rarely what she really wants. _Almost_ always." She smiled at Angel.

"Me and normal? I don't think it was working for Liz as well you might think." She stopped Whistler's automatic protest with a raised hand. "I know, you're just going to say that it was reality rewriting itself and that everything was hunky-dory before now. I'm not so sure I want to take that on faith, you know?" She was now standing in front of Angel, looking into his eyes. She shrugged in a resigned fashion. "I'm Buffy. I don't think I know how to be anyone else."

Angel couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're," he faltered, not even knowing how to put his question into words.

She grinned. "Yep." He moved forward to hug her, but she stepped back quickly. At his crushed look, she hastened to reassure him. "We will definitely get to that. But right now, I've got everything balanced in my head just so and I don't want to knock it all off-kilter." Looking toward Whistler, she added, "So, what do I do?"

"You want to hold a thought or a memory in your mind, something unique to the life you want to return to. And when you're ready, you smash the stone."

She looked around. "Who's got the stone?"

Cordelia grabbed it from where it was sitting on the counter. She brought it over to Buffy and unwrapped it. "You ready?" she asked.

She nodded. "Yeah." She smiled at everyone. "See you guys in a minute!"

Cordy handed her the stone and instantly her mental equilibrium vanished and she was filled with battling images. She stood there struggling to find one concrete image from Buffy's life to hold on to.

As they watched her swaying in the center of the lobby, they became aware of noises from outside, just instants before a group of Wolfram & Hart's lackeys poured through the door. Their orders were clear and simple: retrieve the girl and the stone at any cost. It was rumored that tempers were flaring back at the office, so no one wanted to fail.

Angel and his team instantly sprang into action. No one knew how long it would take for Buffy to come back to herself again, nor what physical and mental condition she would be in when she did. Nor did they dare move her while she was like this.

With the exception of Giles, they had all worked together for years and Wesley, Gunn and Angel immediately moved to surround Buffy while Cordelia and Fred ran to grab weapons. The attack was well-planned and well-implemented and Angel and the others were already fighting desperately by the time they got weapons. Angel couldn't help but think that Wolfram & Hart must practice these hotel incursions regularly; this was too good to be improvised. To the side, he saw Giles fighting off one of the mercenaries, looking decidedly out of practice. Everyone else was holding their own, but they were definitely outnumbered. He chanced a glance back toward Buffy, only to see that nothing had changed. She was still swaying, trancelike. The stone was still whole.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

She opened her eyes, startled to find that she was no longer in the hotel. A warm, white haze surrounded her. It took her a moment before she realized that the chaos in her brain had gone. In fact, Liz had gone. She smiled, in spite of her concerns at her sudden relocation. It felt so good to be herself again.

The euphoria was dampened a little as she noticed two figures emerging from the mist, a male and a female, their skin either dyed or painted so that they simultaneously seemed a part of and apart from their surroundings. She looked from one to the other.

The male spoke first. "Slayer, you are to be returned to your new life."

Buffy tilted her head, then shook it. "Nah, don't wanna."

"You were granted a boon in return for your service to the Powers," said the female. Her voice was gentler and Buffy decided that she was definitely the one she preferred.

"I didn't do it for the Powers. I did it for the stupid kids and the soccer moms and because it was the right thing to do. As far as I'm concerned the Powers are just these stupid, selfish puppeteers who have a whole lot to learn."

"Such insolence will not be tolerated," the male intoned.

"Look, if the Powers had really wanted to give me a reward and, apparently Angel too, then what was wrong with making it so that we could be together? I mean, really, what is the big deal with keeping us apart? Do they get points for thinking up new creative and cruel ways to mess with our lives?" Frustration welled in Buffy as she looked at the unperturbed faces of these two beings.

"You may not defy the Powers That Be. You cannot return to your life as Buffy Summers."

"Watch me. Because if you turn me back into Liz Snow, I guarantee we'll be facing the same problem again and again and again."

"The Champion has more sense than to endanger your alternate self by provoking such a situation."

"But I don't. And if your Powers don't see that something in me is screaming to be with him at any cost, then I don't know what they're looking at." She looked at them defiantly. "You can try, but I will fight you in any way that I can."

The two looked at each other, sharing some private communication that she was not privy to. "The choice must be made now. The danger is growing."

"I've made my choice!" she cried. Then as the rest of the statement seeped in, "What danger? What's happening?"

"We will return you now. Good luck Slayer," said the female.

The colors began to fade from the room, leaving the white misty haze. She began hear sounds as if from a distant fight and tried to look around her to see where the danger lay. Suddenly, her limbs felt heavy and she couldn't move. Her eyes closed, her brain swept back into the whirl of Liz versus Buffy. The sounds were louder now and all around her. Trying desperately to focus her mind, to find her memory, she felt the weight of the stone in her hands.

Settling on the first time Buffy had seen Angel, she focused on that memory: the cool evening air; the feel of his chest beneath her foot; the way his eyes had, even then, taken her breath away; the sound of his voice. Freezing that moment in her mind, holding on to it with everything she had, she opened her hands and dropped the stone.

The shockwave rippled through the hotel. Angel chanced another glance and was awed by what he saw. There was no question in his mind that this had worked; that look in her eyes, her stance, her smile all belonged only to Buffy. She threw herself into the fight with a furious vengeance that quickly skewed the balance. The mercenaries, having seen the stone scattered to dust on the floor, and facing a very pissed-off Slayer in addition to everyone else, quickly began to retreat.

As soon as they were gone, Angel ran to Buffy and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face against his chest and snaked her arms around him. All around them, everyone was checking on injuries or just resting. Just as Wesley knelt down to check on an unconscious Giles, the older man groaned and sat up, rubbing a bump on his head. Cordelia looked at the pair embracing in the middle of the lobby, apparently unaware of anything around them and shook her head. "Back to this again," she grumbled half-heartedly, unable to hide a smile at the joy emanating from the two.

After a minute, Angel and Buffy disengaged and began helping to clean up the worst of the wreckage, sneaking looks at each other, yet not willing to talk in so public a space. Buffy sat next to Giles and tried to help him with the icepack that Fred had produced, seemingly out of nowhere. Giles stared at her, silent and overcome with emotion for a minute.

"I can't believe it," he finally said.

"I'll pinch you," she offered, holding her hand next to his arm.

"No," he answered, grabbing onto her hand tightly as if afraid she would slip away. "Buffy, I've missed you."

She looked at the man she had thought of as a father for so much of her teenage life and felt so grateful for this chance. "You'll have to catch me up on some stuff. Do you know what's happened with the rest of the gang?"

Having finished all the cleaning they were going to do, the others came and sat down while Giles brought Buffy up to speed on her friends from Sunnydale. Xander and Anya had gotten married; Anya was still running The Magic Box while Xander was foreman of his own construction crew. Willow and Tara were still together as well, and still practicing magic. They often lent their expertise to assist Spike who had determined to carry on Buffy's work in protecting the residents of Sunnydale.

She shook her head. "So, Spike's change of heart was really real? Wow." Angel snorted and she shot him a look. Turning back to Giles, she asked the question most on her mind. "What about Dawn? Was she okay after... the thing with Glory?"

Giles nodded slowly. "She was as okay as one could expect. She was heartbroken over your, well, death. We all were. But she hung in there and, after one bad year at school, was able to turn things around. She's a junior at UC Sunnydale, majoring in art history. You will be quite proud of her, Buffy."

Buffy smiled broadly. She couldn't have asked for more. Her friends and her family were doing well. She looked down at herself. Her shirt was still stained with the professor's blood, her hands and legs dirty from sitting on that floor. "I think I'm going to go get a shower, get cleaned up. I'm gonna need to borrow another outfit, Cordy. Then maybe a major shopping trip. Somehow, I get the feeling that erasing Liz's life may have erased her apartment and clothes as well," she said regretfully.

~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~~~BA~~

Buffy took her time in the shower, acclimating to the relative silence of her thoughts. She was also stalling before her conversation with Angel. She had no idea what to say to him or what he expected. She knew what she wanted. Her choice to return to life as Buffy was not made solely to be with Angel, but she couldn't deny that it factored heavily in her decision. But everything had been so crazy, they hadn't had any chance to talk about it beforehand. When he told her the curse had been lifted, maybe that had been a precursor to telling her that he was involved with someone now. It felt almost like no time at all had passed for her since that jump from Glory's tower; for him it had been six years. Of course, he must have moved on.

Feeling decidedly discouraged by the time she got dried off and slipped on the robe that Cordy had left for her, she wandered out into the bedroom only to find the object of her musings sitting and waiting for her.

"Nice to know you've kept up with your lurking skills," she said sulkily.

Angel narrowed his eyes. Obviously her mood had changed since she had come upstairs. Not that some emotional turmoil wasn't to be expected, but was she regretting her decision? "What's wrong, Buffy?"

She sighed as she sat in the middle of the bed. There was no reason to take out her bad mood on Angel. "Nothing. I'm sorry. Just thinking. You know that's always dangerous for me." She tried to smile at him, but found it difficult to look in his eyes. She didn't want confirmation of her fears.

Angel wasn't sure exactly how to approach her. He had come up here away from the overly prying eyes of Cordelia to try to get things straightened out with Buffy. But he wasn't sure it would be wise to initiate a discussion with her in this mood.

She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. Maybe it would be better just to get this over with. "I was thinking about asking Giles to take me down to Sunnydale to go see everybody. We can probably be out of your hair tomorrow." She was staring down at her hands, so she didn't see the look of frustration and disappointment cross his face.

He thought for a minute and then got up and sat next to her on the bed. She looked up at him, feeling the pull she always felt when he was near her. She couldn't be this close and not touch him; just like all those years ago in Sunnydale. Back then it had been he who had left. But she barely had the strength to leave now; if she stayed any longer...

He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and dared to think that maybe he had a chance. Maybe they had a chance. He brushed some damp hair off her cheek, letting his hand follow her arm down to her hand. "Buffy," he began. "I know you want to see everyone. And how much they need to see you. But I don't want you to feel like you have to leave right away, or that you can't come back." She looked at him, not sure what he was saying. Was he just being nice?

He kept talking. "In fact, I'd really kind of like you to stay for a while, or maybe I could come to Sunnydale with you."

"You'd come back to Sunnydale with me?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course I would. I'd go anywhere with you. I've finally got you back and I'm not letting you go until you make me."

She smiled coyly, her heart rejoicing as she began to understand his intentions.. "What if I don't want to make you?" she teased.

He pulled back pretending to think. "Then we might have a problem. We might just have to spend the rest of out lives together." He leaned in toward her, smiling. "Think you could put up with that?"

Her heart pounded in her chest as he neared her. She could smell his scent surrounding her. His eyes were fixed on hers, waiting to see if she would wave him off. "I think," she said softly. "I think I might even enjoy that." And she leaned in the remaining distance, sealing his lips with hers as they both found the only reward they had ever cared about.

~FIN~


End file.
